Something for that holiday feel that's been biting at me for a long time...and I have NO idea why! So, this is a fic between Wesker/Chris (S.T.A.R.S.), and no...it's not that 'rush into sex' thing. :U So, don't go into that expecting it because I will /find you/ or at least cry. Maybe cry...ANYWAY, YEAH. WESKER AND CHRIS. CHRISTMAS APPROACHES. What will happennnn?

Chapter 1

Holiday Season

Chris looked at the papers in his hands, the small print taking up just about every inch of the plain white canvas. The words went on and on about some case, a small case compared to the many he had seen in his years as a S.T.A.R.S. member, but still needed to be done. "Finally!" He chirped, leaning his back against his chair, swiveling around as if to show the world that he was done with the momentous amount of work. "I have it all done! And you?"

Jill's brows furrowed as the brunet closed in on her, eying her computer screen, the words 'This case' followed by a flow of empty spaces and dots captivating it. He could see the world 'bullshit' boldfaced in the middle, giving a teasing laugh upon finding it.

"I'm still working on it!" She mumbled, running her hand through her playful brown locks, blue eyes dancing along the monitor, so light that the image she saw were reflected in them. Jill never liked the aspect of filing reports (and this was proven when Captain Wesker had scolded her constantly for the poor effort she put in them, but her apparently disagreeing with so). "I'm here to police the place, not sit behind a desk typing and pounding out nonsensical letters and words." She buried her head into her arms, refusing to look at the keyboard for another second. "I surrender." A slight jingle from the bells hanging from the hanger off her desk chimed momentarily, giving an oddly jolly tune for such a put down girl.

Chris only laughed harder, patting her back and leaving her to her despair. Poor Jill he thought, walking over to the large oak door that belonged to the man of the hour, was always more of that gunner girl than anything.

He tapped the door with much gusto, as if showing the Captain would give him some sort of prize or recognition. Being with Wesker for a while now, though, Chris knew that that wasn't ever the case. The blond would be happy seeing the work done, but whether or not because it was due to the hard work of the worker never crossed his mind. Or, perhaps it had, in which the case would be the Captain Wesker just simply didn't care. He had the ability to set that tone- make it look like he really didn't give an ounce of a damn. Work was what he always did, and work was what he was good at. People and social hour didn't matter to him at all (at least, what Chris had figured), and his nice pile of paperwork would just receive a 'leave it there'...or something like that.

No voice responded to the first few knocks, so Chris brought it upon himself to walk into the office. "All done," he said, seeing a slight bright flash of color from behind Wesker's sunglasses before he rose to face him, covering them once more with the accessory he seemed to never take off. Probably wears them in the shower, too. "About the case we covered this Monday?"

His office was so plain, even during December when one would expect some sort of ornament. Chris searched for one the desk, even the walls, but it really just looked like a loaded desk in the middle of an untouched room as it commonly was. Wesker wasn't that personal guy, and actually, the empty and boring feel kinda suited him.

"That took a while, Chris." He sounded displeased, but Chris tried to shrug it off and smiled.

"Sir, I finished it. I was quite busy...so I had to juggle with my time. Either way, here it is! I'll just leave it right here," he mused, placing the stack of papers onto the man's desk, slightly ruffling the other sheets off to the side. "Anything to say?"

"Yes...it took you quite some time." Redfield looked displeased with the repetition, but tried not to show it. "You're an open book, Chris." He tried even harder. "Is there something in specific that you needed me to satisfy?"

"How about 'nice work'...?"

Wesker looked unmoved and went back down to read the open file in front of him. "Quite the child today, aren't we? I'm busy at the moment and I'd prefer you leave."

Should have expected that. Chris didn't know why, but for every single time he left with exactly the same feeling- empty and unappreciated- the yearning for Wesker's praise became so blatantly obvious to him that it did make him feel rather childish. He was always satisfied and easy to please, but being near his superior made him want more. Want something from him, absolutely anything. He also couldn't fully dismiss the fact that just something about Wesker made him so, well, fuck, hot. Maybe it was because Wesker was physically appealing, and so much so that Chris couldn't help but to smile and laugh nervously in his presence. Whether or not Wesker knew why he would was a completely uncomfortable feeling all in itself, so the brunet tried to avoid it as much as he could (and in part that he probably looked like a little school girl with a crush on her math teacher. So incredibly embarrassing considering how he was so far from being a school girl). Besides, it was just wrong. Wrong to like him that way, or to have that stupid crush. If anyone found out that he was feeling a bit uneasy around another man, it would be catastrophic.

"Still here?"

Chris reeled his mind back into the pit of reality. "Yeah, yeah...sorry, sir." He hoped it didn't sound as pathetic as it did to himself. Not so shockingly, a small laugh escaped from Wesker's throat, and once again, Chris found himself looking at the older man. So deep, so...

"I'm sorry, but are you really that upset about it? I have to admit, I don't really remember seeing you act this way before." The younger only shrugged, refusing to say a single word in fear that it would betray him. "'Nice work'. That's what you want me to tell you, mhm?" Wesker leaned back in his chair, his right ankle swung over to the opposite knee, his arms laid out on the arm rests. The man tilted his head into the ball of his palm, a smirk on his face as he stared him down. Yeah...make me more uncomfortable, why don't you, Captain Wesker? How about you just rip your shirt off or some weird shit? Oh, God. Scratch that. "My, my...need I be worried? Or perhaps I should tell you exactly what's on your mind seeing as how you are quite the easy one to read. Easy to get things off your shoulders from the start before they continue to burden you. Shall I begin?"

"What?" Chris looked startled but kept his cool. "No! Now, like you said before, I should be leaving. Sorry to have wasted your time." Rushy, rushy.

"So you are."

Quickly, the brunet fled from the room, his back against the door as his heart thundered away, so loud that he foolishly wondered if the others in the room heard it as well. A few of his friends looked over their shoulders, Jill being one of them, a bored expression that also held 'what the hell is wrong with you' somewhere in there. Great. You really do look as ridiculous as you feel. He waved his hand around as if to sweep them back to work, reminding them that they didn't have the luxury of 'relaxation' as he did.

"You look like Wesker mentally tore you to shreds," Valentine piped out anyway, tapping her hand mindlessly on the table. Her monitor still held the same amount of words, or rather, 'fillers', as it had before.

"Great. I look like you now?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She lit up in defense, even though she knew that her colleague was just playing around. Pushing Jill's buttons was relatively easy.

"I was kidding. Anyway, you better get back to work before he comes and sees your progress. Wesker was giving me that look just because I turned it in 'a little' late." One day to be exact. The captain was always so finicky about time.

Jill furrowed her eye brows, slamming herself back into work. She was tired of the office-like tasks, especially with the sound of jingle bells and classic Christmas songs ringing off at the desk of a nearby worker. "Aye, aye, Mr. Redfield."

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

It's pretty cold out. The weather outside was teasing Chris' skin, making him shiver if only minutely. The window was pulled down and he was sitting comfortably inside, arms folded across his chest, brown hair swaying lazily as a few breezes flew by. It was December, and though many people were in a merry mood, no doubt excited for the greatest holiday of all that was about to come, Chris felt strangely upset. Empty. Remote. Last thing I need is following me around every corner. It's the holidays for God's sake! He got up, telling himself that it was just 'one of those times', proceeding to survey the surroundings outside. Lights of red and green and other assorted colors flashed whimsically outside, playing with the slight sprinkle of rain that drizzled Raccoon City. The distant sounds of laughter were heard, but were soon drowned out with phone calls and other ruckuses of everyday office life. Or, at least, S.T.A.R.S. life.

The sun had settled down by this time and many people had left. Spunky little Rebecca was out, too, complaining over the biggest migraine of a lifetime, Wesker sending her out with a low grumble and hiss (no doubt striking the little girl some worry). Jill had gotten half way done with her report and ended her shift, saving the file and 'promising' that she would finish it by tomorrow, though Chris and many others had doubted this.

"Aren't you supposed to be home?" A voice came from behind the young man, but he wasn't so surpised and carried himself with a calm fashion. "It's nearing midnight."

Chris' hands were dug deeply in his pockets as he briskly turned around to see Wesker standing before him, a mug of hot coffee in his hand, probably the blond's life source seeing as how he never seemed to sleep. The man was a machine, working constantly, like it was off of a twenty four seven time schedule. "I am, but I figured I'd just stay a bit longer. See if anyone needed help."

"How kind of you." They were bland, lifeless and empty words. But, so was every other thing that came out of his mouth (unless he was in an occasional stressed and bantering mood). "I normally would advise you to sleep," he raised the cup to his lips, the heat smoldering off of it, steaming up towards his glasses, "but, if you want to wake up completely exhausted and looking just so, I won't object." His shades were fogged and the older man took them off, wiping them off his shirt and placing them back over his eyes. Chris stood there, trying to compose himself after seeing those eyes of his- so rarely seen it practically stopped the world in the split second he had seen them.

"In other words, you just like to see the new guys-"

Wesker stared at him, and though Redfield wasn't able to look at him directly, his gaze was digging into his neck. "I like to see you, in particular, regret your words. You're a rather stubborn person, Chris."

"Or helpful. Remember my reason?"

"You're looking out the window, looking at the Christmas lights I assume." Well, heck...its was the holiday season. Who else, other than he, can keep a straight face thinking of merry times? "Besides, everyone is working on their own case files. You've done yours and I doubt you went and partook in any other case, right?" The brunet moved his hands up to his waist, taking one step back, keeping quiet. "Why are you really here?"

"Because you were here. Couldn't get you off my mind," Chris replied, giving him quite the sassy remark. Wesker only smirked at the comment, reminding the young man that he was still his superior with that chuckle. Chilling.

"You've tested my patience quite enough today. You best go to sleep," the man ordered, taking another sip from his coffee. He was right. To be honest, there was only one begrudging reason why he even stayed here, but seeing as how it clearly wasn't going to work out, Redfield had better move out. "I expect you here on time as usual. I don't care if you had stayed later than needed." Perfecto.

"Alright," Chris replied, rubbing his nose as another breeze of cold air brushed past him. Now, whether or not this was from the wind itself or actually from Wesker, he couldn't say for sure. It was a great time to regret not bringing a jacket, either, especially since his captain had just recently discussed enjoying the look of it on Chris' face. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"With something to keep you warm, too?"

He had eye for detail, didn't he? Turning around, the brunet exited the department, rubbing his bare shoulders as the cold air assaulted him. They picked at every inch of his skin, a shade of pink blooming in his cheeks and ears. His eyes darted back to see Wesker's back, apparently now moving on to rebuke a rough-housing rookie. Chris could distinctly almost hear his voice now- soft, so quiet...and yet always so in control.

Shit. How he was falling for him, he would never really know. "Spending the night alone on Christmas, Wesker?" Chris muttered to himself, laughing quietly before sprinting off to the warm comfort of home.

A/N: YOWZAS. Chris IS a child here! Yeesh! Well, he'll mature into that Redfield we all know (and hate or love depending on you). I want to make him a more manly character rather than that easy took-over type that you expect from a girl. You'll see more of that as chapters come on.

A little short. Just the introduction...get the juices flowing. xD

R&R? you know i luv that :3c